


Open Windows

by son_of_a_bitch_spn_family



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas is the best, Dean is pissed, Humor and a dash of Smut, Just Yank The Fucking Window Open, M/M, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam surprises them with a date, They Talk But They Dont Understand, romantic cliches explored in humorous ways, until he isnt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 18:06:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18103685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/son_of_a_bitch_spn_family/pseuds/son_of_a_bitch_spn_family
Summary: The rest of his words fell away to utter silence as the doors to the barn creaked open after one strong push. Dean nearly fucking lost his grip on the sleeping bag, and he felt as if he was going to be sick for a moment. What waited on the other side of the door could have easily been yanked out of a romance-obsessed thirteen year old girl's diary.Candles placed in the shape of a heart were lit around the barn, large enough to nearly fill the perimeter. Fucking rose petals were sprinkled around the ground in the middle of the barn, looking strange against the dirt on the ground. A boombox was sitting in a corner, gently playing What About Love by Heart, which had no right being as good as it was, though Dean would never admit it.And the fucking worst cherry on top of the sundae was the projector right beside the door, splaying a blown up picture of Dean and Cas with their arms flung over each other's shoulders, smiling widely. It looked as if they'd been caught mid-laugh, and if Dean didn't know any better, he'd think they were a bit cozy in the picture.Dean was going to absolutely murder Sam.





	Open Windows

**Author's Note:**

> This, honest to god, was just for laughs.

When Sam entered the kitchen and sidled up to Cas with a soft smile, Dean knew something was up. He was wearing that look that had always come with a warning label in Dean's mind. 

 

Cas eyed him curiously. “Yes?” 

 

“You free tonight?” Sam asked lightly, shuffling a little bit closer with a smile. 

 

“Sam, I'm free  _ every  _ night, you know this.” Cas narrowed his eyes. “What do you need?” 

 

“No, I mean for a date.” 

 

Dean nearly choked on his fucking sandwich, coughing hard enough to have to beat on his chest. He blinked against watering eyes and watched the proceedings warily. Sam and Cas slowly looked away from him, focusing back on each other. 

 

“I am not sure what I am being asked.” 

 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Cas, you got time for a date tonight, or not?” 

 

“Considering that lack of activity planned for the remainder of my evening, I  _ do,  _ but-” 

 

“Great. And you, Dean?” 

 

Dean blinked rapidly, freezing in place. He'd stuffed his mouth full of sandwich, and Sam was waiting patiently for an answer. Swallowing thickly, he wiped the mayo around his mouth away and sat his sandwich down, pursing his lips. 

 

“You got a hot date, or something? She a part of triplets?” Dean hummed, considering. “Shit, why not? Wouldn't be my first, won't be my last.” 

 

Sam slapped his hand down on the table and straightened with a bright grin. “Perfect. Alright, go get dressed to look nice. Meet me at the car in five. I'm letting Jody know we're going out.”

 

“She's not our mom, Sam,” Dean snorted, picking his sandwich back up. 

 

“Well, no, but this is her house we're staying in. It's called manners, Dean… have some.” 

 

As Sam swept from the room, Cas looked at Dean with a flat expression. “I didn't agree to this.” 

 

“You'll be fine,” Dean replied, waving a hand. “Just go pick through my clothes and find something presentable. Maybe getting lucky will do you some good.” 

 

“Is there something  _ not good  _ about me now?” Cas asked, one eyebrow sweeping up. 

 

Dean quickly took a bite of his sandwich, mumbling out words around the bread, making no sense. 

 

“I don't even know what to wear, Dean.” 

 

Rolling his eyes, he swallowed down his last two bites and washed that down with beer. With a hum, he cleaned up his mess quickly, pretty sure Jody would be upset about bread crumbs all over her marble countertop. Then, he faced Cas with a grin, completely ignoring his exasperation. 

 

“Alright, I'll help you pick something out. I'll know what you look good in better than you will. Come on.” 

 

Grumbling, Cas followed him. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Sam insisted on driving, and since he was the only one who knew where the date was being  _ held,  _ Dean had no choice but to let him. 

 

Whatever, Dean didn't really care. He was actually looking forward to the date, considering he'd be spending time laughing at Cas and Sam's  _ horrific  _ flirting, while  _ probably  _ getting to take some girl to a hotel later for the night. The date didn't matter so much, but sex was good for the soul, Dean thought. 

 

Cas was stuck in the back with the stupidly cliche picnic blanket and a basket full of food. Definitely Sam's doing. Dean's idea for a date was smiling at a girl cockily until she couldn't resist his charms,  _ or  _ the perfect date where they didn't mind eating burgers and having hot sex later. Vaguely, Dean wondered what Cas’ perfect date would be. 

 

“Sam, where are we going?” Cas asked suddenly, tone dropping low with accusation. 

 

Dean blinked and looked up from his phone. They'd turned on some dirt path, driving down the bumpy road through the thickets. He frowned as they broke through to a barn that looked vaguely familiar in Baby's headlights. The barn seemed to glow, a warm orange pouring through the cracks in the wood. 

 

“Maybe the girls are into scary shit.” Dean grinned and smacked Sam's shoulder as Baby pulled to a stop. “Hey,  _ we're  _ scary shit. Good going, Sammy.” 

 

“Dean-” 

 

Sam hummed, cutting Cas off. “It's a nice spot. Everybody out; I have to get something out the trunk. Cas, grab the stuff out the back.” 

 

Dean shoved from Baby with a sigh, breathing in fresh air. Maybe Sam was right; this might have been a good spot. The air seemed to crackle and charge here, making his skin tingle slightly in the best way. As Sam plundered through the trunk, Dean turned to Cas with a wide grin. 

 

“Is it weird that I'm looking forward to this?” he asked, nudging Cas, shoulder. “Why haven't we ever done this before? The three of us on a date with triplets; dude, I'm gonna laugh my ass of all night _and_ get laid when we split off, hopefully.” 

 

“Here, hold this,” Sam said, stomping away from the trunk and shoving a thick sleeping bag at him. 

 

Dean caught it with a huff, blinking. “What idiot is sleeping in a fucking barn? It's cold as fuck. You and your nature obsession, Sammy.  _ Though…  _ it is a good chance to huddle for warmth.” he winked and chuckled when Sam shook his head with a smile. 

 

“Alright, I'm right behind you,” Sam muttered, heading towards the driver's seat again. “Just forgot one thing.” 

 

Dean rolled his eyes and moved back towards Cas, walking away from Baby. He came to regret that, because her engine suddenly revved with its usual growl, and Sam started backing out towards the path. He flung a hand up as he moved Baby farther and farther away. 

 

“Sam! What the fuck? Sam!” Dean yelled, jerking towards the car as it continued to back away. 

 

“Have fun,” Sam called, smiling wide enough that it look like it hurt. “See you in the morning!” 

 

With that, Sam drove away, the rumbling of Baby's engine disappearing in the distance. Dean gaped after him, a little lost for words. Whirling around, he focused on Cas, who didn't look too pleased. 

 

“Did he just-” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“What in the  _ hell  _ just happened?” 

 

Cas gave an aborted shrug. “I have absolutely no idea. Perhaps, he got nervous?” 

 

Scowling, Dean started stomping towards the barn, eyes narrowed. “No, that fucker looked too fucking happy to be nervous. There better be twins in here, or so help me, I'm going to-” 

 

The rest of his words fell away to utter silence as the doors to the barn creaked open after one strong push. Dean nearly fucking lost his grip on the sleeping bag, and he felt as if he was going to be sick for a moment. What waited on the other side of the door could have easily been yanked out of a romance-obsessed thirteen year old girl's diary. 

 

Candles placed in the shape of a heart were lit around the barn, large enough to nearly fill the perimeter. Fucking  _ rose petals  _ were sprinkled around the ground in the middle of the barn, looking strange against the dirt on the ground. A boombox was sitting in a corner, gently playing  _ What About Love  _ by  _ Heart,  _ which had no right being as good as it was, though Dean would never admit it. 

 

And the fucking worst cherry on top of the sundae was the projector right beside the door, splaying a blown up picture of Dean and Cas with their arms flung over each other's shoulders, smiling widely. It looked as if they'd been caught mid-laugh, and if Dean didn't know any better, he'd think they were a bit cozy in the picture. 

 

Dean was going to absolutely  _ murder  _ Sam. 

 

“Oh,” Cas said, entirely too calm for the situation. 

 

“What day is it?” 

 

“What, Dean, I don't-” 

 

Dean snapped his head over to glare at him. “What fucking day is it, Cas? Is it April 1st?” 

 

“No?” Cas frowned at him. “Dean, it's September.” 

 

“Okay, but what  _ day  _ is it?” 

 

“The 18th, why?” 

 

Dean wrinkled his nose. “What's significant about that date? What happened on this day, Cas?” 

 

Cas considered for a moment before his face lit up in understanding. “It was the day you and I met.” 

 

“Of-fucking-course,” Dean snapped, scoffing in disgust. “It's our anniversary.” 

 

“Is it? Doesn't that only apply to-” 

 

“Cas, please, just… shut up for a moment.” 

 

The resounding silence was offended, but Dean didn't have time to feel too guilty. Mostly, he wanted to get his hands on Sam and strangle him, just for a bit. This was  _ not  _ how his night was supposed to go. 

 

“What now?” Cas spoke up with a sigh. “We could make it back to Jody's within a four hours if we-” 

 

Dean waved a hand, grimacing. “Sam wouldn't do all this and leave us the chance to escape. Ain't got much a choice but to… enjoy it, I guess.” 

 

“Enjoy it,” Cas echoed dubiously, eyes flicking over the cliche romantic setting. 

 

Right. Well, that part sucked, but if Sam thought that Dean was gonna just succumb to every second of this miserable prank, he had another thing coming. They had food, moderately alright music, and one common subject to bitch about through the night. Dean could handle this; it wasn't a big deal. 

 

His smile was more gritted teeth than anything, but he forced it on his face as he stuck out his elbow towards Cas. “Yeah, man. Fuck it, he wants us to go on a date, we  _ will.  _ We got food, music, something to bitch about, and there's two handsome guys to look at up there on that wall. So, what do you say?” He waggled his eyebrows, face softening. “Wanna go on a date with me for our not-anniversary?” 

 

Cas considered him for a moment, clearly thinking the question over seriously. With the equivalent to a shrug for Cas - which was his fingers twitching carelessly - he reached out and curled his hand through Dean's arm. He hooked the picnic basket over his free hand with the blanket folded on top, and Dean led them in the, admittedly, horrific barn with the sleeping bag under his free arm. 

 

“Are you and Sam pranking each other again?” Cas asked lightly, tugging his hand from the crook of Dean's elbow to lay out the checkered blanket on top of the rose petals. 

 

Dean tsked lightly, dropping the sleeping bag and taking the basket. “No,” he muttered, picking through the basket in approval, “he's just an asshole. Don't worry, we'll get him back in time.” 

 

“I can help in that endeavor,” Cas said lightly, casually sitting beside Dean. 

 

Pulling out the contents of the basket, Dean snorted. He supposed it wasn't  _ too  _ bad. It could definitely be worse. Sure, he wasn't getting laid, but that rarely irked him anymore. 

 

“I can't believe that little shit remembered the day we  _ met.  _ Who does that?” Dean shook his head, snapping the basket closed and sitting it aside. “That kid has a memory like a vault.” 

 

Cas hummed quietly. “It does seem like long ago, doesn't it? I can recall how we were back then, but it seems like a strange dream.” 

 

“You're telling me, man. You were all-” Dean gave a blank expression, lowering his voice to a low rasp. “-  _ Dean, heaven has given you orders, I'm here to see you follow them.  _ Pfft, what a load of crap.” 

 

“I do not sound like that.” 

 

“Ehhh, you kinda do.” 

 

Cas rolled his eyes so hard his head tipped to the side. “If I recall, you were the one who stabbed me before I could properly get a word in edgewise. Sam was right; you have no manners.” 

 

“Whatever.” Dean popped a grape in his mouth, chewing obnoxiously. “But you're right, it does feel like forever ago. Being back here is weird.” 

 

“How so?” 

 

“See where our faces are?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“I can still remember your wings on that wall.” 

 

Cas looked over at him in surprise. “You do?” 

 

“Sure. I mean, I'm not the guy who's gonna remember they day we  _ met,  _ but I won't be forgetting your wings in this lifetime.”

 

“That's… oddly comforting.” 

 

Dean wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to that, so he said nothing. They dipped into comfortable silence, both leaning back on their hands. Occasionally, Dean reached up to snag a grape or chocolate covered strawberry, but otherwise, he stared at the picture on the wall. 

 

“Hey, remember that time we went to that - what did you call it? - den of iniquity? You met-” 

 

“Chastity,” Cas cut him off, grimacing. “I was not well-versed in the way that humans were.” 

 

“Oh, come on, that was  _ funny.  _ One of our best nights together, or that's how I remember it.” 

 

“I have a broader understanding of what occurred that night, as well as what  _ tact  _ is. That night remains an embarrassing memory.” 

 

Dean chuckled. “Well,  _ I  _ thought it was hilarious. One of the best  _ this-is-the-last-night-I-will-be-alive  _ nights I've ever had.” 

 

Cas squinted at him. “You have too many of those.” 

 

“Got that right. But hell, you got more.” 

 

“Unfortunately.” 

 

Dean smiled around his bite of chocolate, careless that it was in the shape of a heart. The remaining annoyance he'd held towards the night bled away, and Dean began to wonder what exactly Sam had hoped to achieve. It wasn't like this was some sort of horrible prank - outside of the gaudy setting, it was actually kinda nice. 

 

Dean blinked. “Hey, you don't think that Sam thinks we're, uh,  _ actually  _ together, do you?” 

 

“I'd hope not, considering the inaccuracy in that assumption.” Cas frowned slightly. “Why? Do  _ you _ think he does?”  

 

“God, I hope not. That would make things incredibly awkward at home, wouldn't it? I mean, could you  _ imagine  _ if we were together?” 

 

“No.” 

 

“Okay, but think about it,” Dean insisted, lifting a hand to smack Cas’ arm. “How would we get anything done? You're an angel, so you could just straight up give me a boner whenever you wanted to. And trust me, one encounter with this-” He gestured to his body. “-and you'd be giving me boners all the time. We'd be like those robots who only function for sex. Sam would  _ hate  _ us.” 

 

Cas sighed heavily. “Dean, my  _ mojo  _ \- as you put it - would not give you boners, and I would not have sex with you all the time. We have very busy lives, sex would be few and far between.” 

 

“Dude, you can't just cockblock us like that. Counter offer, we'd have sex at least every two days.” 

 

“Twice a week.” 

 

“Twice a week and a blowjob every Monday.” 

 

“Deal.” 

 

Dean smirked victoriously. “So, with all that frequent sex, Sam would hate our guts.” 

 

“Why?” Cas asked. “Wouldn't he be happy for us?” 

 

“Well, I mean, probably. For the part where we were all sappy and shit, sure. But not the kinky parts.” 

 

“We would not be sappy.” 

 

“No?” 

 

“Neither of us are the sappy sort. We'd be more likely to shove each other out of the bed during an argument than anything.” 

 

Dean tossed his head back and laughed, making Cas chuckle with him. “God,” he muttered, shaking his head as his laughter abated, “that is so  _ us.  _ We'd bicker all day, then fuck all night.” 

 

“If you didn't manage to annoy me past the point of arousal.” Cas lifted his eyebrows pointedly. 

 

“Oh, please, I could probably annoy you all day, then wink at you just  _ once,  _ and you'd be a goner. Trust me, that's one of my better attributes. Even people who hate me wanna have their way with me, and you'd love me, so it'd be worse.” 

 

“You underestimate my willpower.” 

 

Dean snorted. “And you underestimate just how good I am with my tongue.” 

 

Cas arched an eyebrow at him, lips twitching in faint amusement. “You do realize that I'm a celestial being with complete mobility of  _ all  _ my appendages, yes? You may have be good with your tongue, but that's only at half mobility. I could make you cry.” 

 

Dean choked on the grape he'd tossed unthinkingly into his mouth, surging up to try and force it back up his throat. Cas reached over and thumped him on the back, hard. The grape flew across the barn at maximum speed, but Dean just gaped at Cas in mystified shock. 

 

“Jesus, fuck, are you tryna kill me?” 

 

“No, but my tongue probably could.”

 

“Okay,” Dean said decisively, swallowing and coughing slightly, “enough of the tongue talk. No, see,  _ this  _ is why Sam would hate us. All we'd do is flirt and try to sexually one-up each other.” 

 

“Actually, no. Sam wouldn't hate us at all, because he'd be happy that we were happy. And also, he wouldn't be able to tell.” Cas tilted his head, eyeing Dean seriously. “If you were to imagine it correctly, we'd act much the same as we do now with near unnoticeable changes.” 

 

“Oh, I'm calling bullshit. Dude, we'd be  _ that  _ couple, okay? You know, the couple who bickers all the time but would beat someone else's ass for looking at the other wrong. The couple who makes stupid jokes, and eats off each other's plates, and has kinky, yet comfortable sex. And between you and me, we'd probably be the couple who had inside jokes and gave each other gifts without prompting because, say what you want, we'd be sappy.” 

 

“By those guidelines,  _ you'd  _ be sappy.” 

 

“What, no I wouldn't.” 

 

“You gave me a mixtape, you eat off my plate all the time, and you insist we have inside jokes.” 

 

Dean frowned. “Yeah, but that's not the same- hey, fuck you! I'm  _ not  _ sappy.” 

 

“Sure,” Cas agreed mildly, lips twitching as he reached over to rearrange the finger sandwiches in the shape of a heart. 

 

“Whatever. What was the point of this conversation? I can't remember.” 

 

“You were curious as to whether Sam actually believed we were together or not.” 

 

“Right.” Dean frowned, pushing another strawberry between his lips mindlessly. “He'd have mentioned it, right? If he does, I mean.” 

 

“Most likely not. He believes you have issues with your sexuality, so he wouldn't mention it.” 

 

“Wait, what?” 

 

Cas shot him a look. “Sam and I  _ do  _ conversate, you know. He is my best friend.” 

 

“Okay,  _ one,  _ we will revisit that whole best friend thing again, because  _ I'm  _ the best friend, and  _ two,  _ why does Sam think I have issues with my sexuality?” Dean asked gruffly, narrowing his eyes. 

 

“I'm not sure if I should say. That's between-” 

 

“Cas, just fucking tell me.” 

 

“Fine,” Cas grumbled, huffing out a long aggrieved breath. “Tell me, Dean, what's your sexuality?” 

 

“I'm bisexual.” 

 

“Exactly, but Sam thinks- wait.” 

 

It was Dean's turn to arch an eyebrow. “What?” 

 

Cas blinked slowly. “You're- you  _ know  _ you're bisexual?” 

 

“Well, duh. I mean, I haven't ever  _ said  _ it before, but I'm not oblivious to my own shit, much as I try to avoid it. Do you think straight guys just joke around with their best friend about being in a relationship?” Dean paused, considering. “Okay, they probably  _ do,  _ because some people just do that, but  _ I  _ don't. Lemme rephrase that question; do you think that if I was as straight as I acted, I'd do some of the shit I do?” 

 

“It's not for me to determine,” Cas answered promptly, shrugging shamelessly. “I do not care who or what you like, so long as you're happy. Sam was under the impression that you believed yourself to be straight, while he thought otherwise.” 

 

Dean huffed a short breath. “Guess I'm not pretending as well as I thought.” 

 

“Why do you pretend?” Cas asked curiously, not judging, just genuinely wanting to know. 

 

“It's easier, I guess.” Dean shrugged and quirked a small smile. “I mean, it's not really that big of a thing. I prefer women, usually. Some men also happen to be hot; can't help that I'm not blind.” 

 

Cas hummed. “I do not understand the restraints that surround sexuality.” 

 

“It's not a restraint, it's just not something I go spouting off about. If Sam would have asked, I'd have told him the truth, or more likely, brushed it off. Because that's not what's important about me. I'm a Hunter, a damn fine one at that, and I care about my family; that's all that matters.” 

 

“That's commendable.” 

 

“Thanks,” Dean chirped, lips quirking, “I think so too. Sam's just a nosy bitch sometimes, don't entertain him when he's trying to get the scoop. That boy can gossip like an old lady, I swear.” 

 

“And this is him being nosy?” Cas waved between them, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “If he would have simply asked, I would have told him that we were not together.” 

 

“Well, he thinks I have issues with my sexuality, and he  _ knows  _ you don't really understand sexuality. He probably thinks our heads are stuck too far up our asses to do anything about our repressed feelings for each other.” Dean rolled his eyes, chuckling lightly. “Don't worry about it, Cas; we'll just tell him we're in love now, and he'll forget all about it.” 

 

“If you say so.” 

 

“Yeah, it's not a big deal. We're best friends; a little joke won't hurt anyone. Besides, we could sell it well enough. Just sneak off to go watch movies and pretend like we had sex.” 

 

Cas clicked his tongue lightly in disapproval. “It's saddening, almost. I think he'd want us to be happy together.” 

 

“We might could have once upon a time. We've always had chemistry, or whatever. A profound bond, as you called it.” Dean made a face, sticking his tongue out and fake-gagging. “But we totally missed our window, dude.” 

 

“I was never notified of a window.” 

 

“Oh, we definitely had our windows.” 

 

Cas narrowed his eyes. “Where and when were these windows?” 

 

“Dude, purgatory? That was  _ the  _ situation where we coulda fucked and never spoke of it again. And then, okay, so there was the time you betrayed us for Crowley. We woulda had some awesome makeup sex. Oh! And remember that time you ran off after Naomi fucked with your brain? There was definitely some tension there. And let's be honest, we were horny as fuck in the first couple of years we knew each other. Trust me, we've had our windows.” 

 

“Those were all pressing situations; that was no time for…  _ windows.”  _

 

Dean shrugged, lifting a hand and waving it in sympathy. “I'm not saying you're wrong, I'm just telling you where the windows were at. When the world's ending, we just… click, like  _ that.  _ Don't stress your head over it, man. We missed our window, and that's okay. I'm good with where we're at.” 

 

Cas pursed his lips for a moment, thinking it over, then gave a nod. “I am too.” 

 

Dean didn't bother replying and leaned forward to grab one of the little sandwiches. They were stupidly good, but Dean wouldn't mention it to Sam, because there were at least three healthy things on it, plus it was wheat bread. He chewed in silence, looking up at his smiling face next to Cas’. They really had been happy in that picture, even just for a moment. 

 

He took a quick look at Cas, almost curious. As light as the conversation had been, the subjects had been heavy. It was nice, in a way, to be able go talk to Cas like that; they never really did, not because they didn't  _ want  _ to, but because they hadn't  _ needed  _ to. 

 

Cas didn't so much as care what Dean's preferences were, and he was pleased to playfully flirt, or even discuss what could have been, and it was all harmless. Nothing was going to change, nothing was going to happen to them, and there was comfort in that. Cas only solidified that by meticulously peeling the skin off a grape and chewing it with suspicion, as if he doubted its purpose. He didn't appear affected by the conversation at all. 

 

Which, that was… great, really. 

 

Except, now Dean was thinking about it. He'd always known everything he'd said, but he hadn't actually put it out there. Cas didn't really seem to have too much of an opinion, and Dean wasn't sure if he should be relieved or insulted by that. 

 

“Could you really make me cry with your tongue?” Dean asked, because he was a glutton for punishment. 

 

Cas held the grape without its skin up to his face, squinting at it, and said, “Yes.” 

 

Dean cleared his throat. “Scientifically speaking, how would you, uh, go about doing that?” 

 

“Sexual release produces dopamine, and a great amount of dopamine can cause many effects, such as emotional release, stress release, a natural high, and so on. For those who are very stressed, or emotional, or  _ both,  _ the likelihood of crying and other effects increases. As I said, I have full mobility of my tongue, so I could stimulate your prostate to a point that you find release so intense that you cannot help but to cry.” 

 

“Okay, say that again, but with less science.” 

 

Cas shot him a flat look, flicking the grape away smoothly. “You're not an idiot.” 

 

Dean wasn't, and he totally understood that, but he was definitely asking for trouble. “Indulge me,” he suggested, leaning back on his hands again. 

 

“If you insist.” Cas flicked his gaze over the length of his body for a moment, then averted his eyes. “In simpler terms, I would use my tongue to make you orgasm so strongly that you'd cry.” 

 

“You can be crude, Cas. What's the point of rebelling against heaven if you can't tell your best friend that you could totally eat him out until he sobbed?” Dean asked, smirking slightly. 

 

Cas stared at him seriously. “You.” 

 

“Okay, you're trying to open a window without meaning to, and that's not fair.” 

 

“I'm not.” 

 

“Well, you can't just… say shit like that, man. It's really fucking intense and suggestive,” Dean mumbled, wrinkling his nose. “And sappy.” 

 

“I'm only being truthful,” Cas retorted sharply. 

 

Dean rolled his eyes, moving forward to grab the stupid little juices Sam had packed. He could have at least packed  _ beer,  _ but that was probably another portion of torture. Though, Dean still hadn't worked out if this was supposed to be a prank or a nice gesture yet. 

 

“Want some?” Dean offered, holding out the little bug-juice after he'd had a swallow. 

 

Cas plucked it from his fingers. “Flavor?” 

 

“Cherry.” 

 

“Will I like it?” 

 

“Just try it.” 

 

Cas did, tipping the juice back and gulping it. Dean watched his throat bob, trying not enjoy the way his lips encircled the whole opening as his cheeks hollowed out.  _ Tried  _ being the keyword. Cas pulled it from his mouth with a scowl, narrowing his eyes at it in accusation, and his lips were full and red, glistening in the candlelight. 

 

“That was horrible.” 

 

“You're horrible,” Dean scoffed, snatching it back. 

 

“You always get annoyed when I don't like the things you do.” Cas full-on  _ pouted  _ at him, the fucker. “I like you, isn't that enough?” 

 

Dean took a deep, calming breath. “Window,” he reprimanded lightly. 

 

Cas narrowed his eyes. “Is that a warning or a proposition? I'm not entirely sure.” 

 

“No, no,” Dean mumbled, waving a finger between them and shaking his head, “I am  _ so  _ not doing this with you tonight, because Sam would be right, and Sam can't be right, or I'd probably die a thousand deaths. It's a brother thing, you understand.” 

 

Cas rolled his eyes. “Dean,” he said, voice a smooth, tantalizing timber that went straight to Dean's chest, and that was  _ so not fair.  _

 

“Help me pack up,” Dean replied lightly, grabbing the basket and stuffing the food in there without any finesse. “I'm gonna go to sleep early tonight so I can wake up and kick Sam's ass.” 

 

Cas chuckled fondly, sitting up to do as Dean asked. As he finished putting everything away, Dean walked over to the sleeping bag and flung it out, frowning at its size. It could definitely fit him and Cas, but wouldn't leave room for much imagination. 

 

“Dean?” 

 

“Huh? Yeah, I was just…” 

 

Cas sat the basket aside and looked at the sleeping bag, eyebrows raised. “I don't sleep.” 

 

“Yeah, but you can't just stand up in the dark all night. And there's no way in hell I'm letting you lay in the dirt. That's just… wrong.” 

 

“I won't be uncomfortable.” 

 

“Okay, this is one of those human things where he burden ourselves needlessly.  _ You  _ won't be uncomfortable, but  _ I  _ will. I'll think about you hovering over me, or laying in the fucking dirt, and then I won't get a wink of sleep,” Dean explained. 

 

Cas frowned at him. “You want me to sleep with you?” 

 

“Please don't ever repeat those words; I promise you I am only flesh and blood, and it has been  _ a minute  _ since I last got off. So, just… get in the fucking sleeping bag with me and  _ don't  _ make it weird.” 

 

“Fine,” Cas said simply. 

 

Dean grumbled as he laid it out, unzipping the side and flinging it open. He cursed Sam under his breath as he laid down right next to the crease, not thinking too hard when he waved Cas over. 

 

As Cas settled down, flat on his back, Dean rolled his eyes. Wordlessly, he nudged him until he was curled on his side, just next to the zipper. Without speaking, he pulled the top over him, passing it over to Cas, listening as he zipped it up without having to be told. The warmth he felt from that was was stupid, really, but Dean couldn't help but be pleased when he thought about Cas being good at people things. 

 

“Who taught you about sleeping bags?” he asked as he settled on his side, scooting back from Cas until their faces were farther apart. 

 

Cas swallowed, eyes averting. “I taught myself, when I was human.” 

 

All the warmth seeped out of him as quickly as it had come, because Dean  _ knew  _ Cas hadn't learned that from camping. He didn't need to ask to know that Cas had struggled as a human, and he was selfish enough not to want to know just how bad it was. But he was also so fucking  _ guilty,  _ all the time, about that horrible fucking mistake he'd made. 

 

“Did you sleep on the street?” 

 

“A homeless man gave it to me when he randomly found a shelter that would take him. I slept behind the gas-n-sip I worked at.” 

 

Dean closed his eyes, chest aching. “Fuck,” he croaked softly, throat struggling to swallow. 

 

“You did it for-” 

 

“Don't. Cas, just… don't.” 

 

“Dean,” Cas said softly, sounding uncertain. 

 

“I can't apologize to you, because I don't deserve the forgiveness you wanna give. I don't want you to hate me, but that's  _ exactly  _ what I deserve. Yes, I did it for Sam, and if I had to, I'd do it again. But I swear to you, Cas, I would do it so differently.” 

 

“Tell me.” 

 

Dean opened his eyes, staring into the bright blue gaze waiting for him. “I would give you money, would help you find a place, would be fucking  _ honest.  _ And I'd visit, all the time. I wouldn't have to be annoyed that some woman wanted to take you on a date, and I wouldn't have to let you go after I'd helped you look perfect, and you'd never be hungry, or lost, or confused, or any-fucking-thing you were. I was supposed to be there for you, and I wasn't, and I can't ever take that back.” 

 

Carefully, Cas murmured, “I don't forgive you, Dean, but I trust you not to let it happen again. But know this, if it ever was to occur once more, I would not need you.” 

 

Dean released a small, sad sigh. He hated the part of him that wanted Cas to need him, even so selfishly. But there was strength in Cas’ words, and Dean was proud of that, proud of Cas for having that on his own. And to himself, within his own mind, he vowed to  _ never  _ put that to the test. 

 

“I'm… sorry,” Dean whispered weakly, not having the words to fix what had happened. 

 

Cas hummed quietly. “Is this a window?” 

 

“A small one, yes. A little inappropriate, but a window nonetheless,” Dean confirmed, swallowing. 

 

“Go to sleep, Dean,” Cas said softly, and Dean knew that was a small punishment for what happened. 

 

Yet another window missed, but Dean wasn't even bitter. He pushed his hands under his head and closed his eyes, evening out his breathing. 

 

Quietly, before he could change his mind, Dean whispered, “Goodnight, Cas.” 

 

A finger brushed his temple, lightly pressing over his short hair, and Cas replied, “Goodnight, Dean.” 

 

And that's how Dean feel asleep, with Cas’ hand playing with his hair, guilt evaporating with every forgiving stroke. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


When Dean woke up, he was in the same exact position as he fell asleep, and Cas’ fingers were still in his hair, gently brushing. 

 

“Morning,” he croaked, squinting as he lifted his head to peer over Cas’ shoulder. “Time's'it?” 

 

Cas dropped his hand and reached behind him to unzip the sleeping bag. “Seven in the morning. Sam called and said he'd be here soon.” 

 

As Cas practically fell out of the sleeping bag, Dean was taken with him, the cover yanking him on top of Cas. Dean blinked rapidly, suddenly much more awake, and this had to be the cheesiest shit he'd ever been a part of. 

 

“Window,” Dean informed him. 

 

Cas blinked. “How do we identify a window? What are the signs?” 

 

“Annnnd it's gone,” Dean sang, pushing himself off Cas while rolling his eyes. 

 

“Windows are stupid,” Cas announced, a bit petulantly if Dean was honest. 

 

Chuckling, Dean replied, “Yeah, gonna have to agree with you there. Alright, first things first, I'm gonna kick Sam's ass, then get some coffee in me.” 

 

“Don't kick Sam's ass,” Cas murmured, helping Dean gather all the things. “I'm sure he meant well.” 

 

“Yeah, well, he can mean well with my foot up his ass. He's gonna taste my boot for a fucking week.” 

 

“You're always grumpier in the mornings.” 

 

“Relearning to exist ain't fun.” Dean rolled up the sleeping bag and huffed. “God, why does mornings without coffee even…  _ happen?  _ All this shit that Sam thought of, and he couldn't provide a fucking coffeemaker?” 

 

The rumbling of Baby's engine cut off what Cas was about to say, and they both made for the door. As Dean passed, he pushed down the projector, just to be an asshole. Baby's tires crackled as she came to a stop, and Sam slowly got out. 

 

“Top of the morning,” Sam teased, eyes bright with humor. “How was the anniversary?” 

 

“Cas made me cry,” Dean stated flatly, enjoying the way Sam's smile fell, then continued, “with his tongue.” 

 

Sam's look of horror was infinitely better. 

 

Dean's urge to kick Sam's ass evaporated as he sputtered and turned red, looking unsure for a moment. With a smirk, Dean plucked his keys from Sam's hands and started towards the car. 

 

“I enjoyed the grapes,” Cas informed Sam seriously. 

 

Sam looked between Dean and Cas with such confusion that Dean seriously considered scarring him for life, but he decided the confusion was enough. “Cas,” he said sharply, jerking his head, “you're up front with me, on account of your full-mobility tongue.” 

 

Cas smiled and started towards the passenger side, and they both ignored Sam he choked on air, frozen in place. As they settled, Sam slowly approached the car and slid in the back, silent. 

 

With a smirk, Dean started them towards home. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Being back at the bunker was good, for the most part. Things went back to normal, and it almost seemed as if the forced anniversary had just been a fever dream. 

 

Sam waited three days before he cornered him one morning in the kitchen to bring it up. “So, uh, you and Cas, huh?” 

 

“No,” Dean replied simply, pouring himself some coffee, looking at Sam seriously. 

 

“But you said-” 

 

“Dude, I was fucking with you. Cas didn't get anywhere near me with his tongue.” 

 

“Okay,” Sam said carefully, eyebrows folding together in confusion. “Alright, hot take, but do you think that… I don't know… you want him to?” He immediately winced after and held his hands up, cutting off whatever Dean was going to say. “I'm not saying anything, but maybe you should consider that you  _ might  _ want him to, uh, do that?” 

 

Dean sipped his coffee and said, “Yep.” 

 

Sam dropped his hands, blinking. “Yep? Yep,  _ what?  _ Yep, you want him to, or yep, you should consider it?” 

 

“Yep,” Dean repeated, pushing from the counter with a smirk. 

 

Sam huffed as walked out of the kitchen, heading towards the library where Cas would undoubtedly be, going over some lore with Jack. And sure enough, they were both sitting at a table, books strewn everywhere, heads bent over papers. 

 

“Dean,” Jack greeted happily, lips curling up into a smile as he glanced up. 

 

Dean hummed around a sip of his coffee, moving to sit down beside Cas. “Morning, kid. What are we going over today?” 

 

“Cas is teaching me about Cupids,” Jack answered, lifting his paper and waving it. “I didn't know that they were actually real.” 

 

“Unfortunately, they are,” Dean confirmed, grimacing as he set his coffee down. “They're annoying, but they do their jobs, I guess.” 

 

Jack frowned down at his paper. “Did you know they don't work on fellow angels?” 

 

“Uh, I didn't actually.” 

 

Cas heaved a sigh, turning to face Dean with wide eyes, slightly jerking his head at Jack. “Our son seems to think that the fact that angels are unaffected by cupid means that he and I are incapable of loving or being loved.” Cas made a face, trying to convey with his eyes that he needed help. “Please tell him this is not that big of an issue.” 

 

“Right.” Dean coughed, nodding slightly. “Jack, Cas is right! When it's, um, time… you'll find love in that sense, but like,  _ way later,  _ okay? You're too young for that shit. But that doesn't mean you're not loved, or capable of loving. You love us, right? We love you, Sam loves you, there's love all around! So, no biggie.” 

 

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Yes, but that could just be because I'm half-human. What about Cas?” 

 

Dean shot Cas a look, but Cas just cleared his throat and looked down at his book, clearly lost. 

 

“Okay,” Dean replied carefully, mulling  _ that  _ over and trying to think of a way out of this. “Right, but the same rules apply. You love Cas, so he's capable of being loved, and he loves you, so…” He waved his hands, urging Jack to finish the sentence. 

 

“He's capable of loving,” Jack muttered, rolling his eyes slightly. “Yeah, but Cupid fixes people up  _ romantically.  _ What if-” 

 

“You don't need to be worrying about that right now, Jack. I'm sure you'll… meet someone, someday.” 

 

“But what about Cas?” 

 

“I'm perfectly capable of loving someone romantically, Jack,” Cas informed him seriously. 

 

Dean grinned, smacking Cas’ shoulder lightly. “See? Cas is a regular rebel, so he's in the clear.” 

 

“Yes, but can he be loved romantically in  _ return?  _ Because Cupids affect humans, not angels. What if Cas loves someone, but they can't love him back?” 

 

“Okay, Jack, not  _ all  _ humans get hit with Cupid's arrows, just people who  _ really  _ need to get together.” Dean looked at Cas, raising his eyebrows. “Right?” 

 

Cas nodded. “Right. So, if I were to, er, romantically love someone, they'd most likely be fully capable of returning the sentiment.” 

 

Jack narrowed his eyes at them. “Are you lying to me? I feel like you're lying to me.” 

 

“No, Jack, we're not lying.” Cas chuckled lightly, looking down at his book in amusement. “Don't concern yourself with it; romantic entanglements are not something you should dwell on right now.” 

 

“Can we stop studying them, then? If I'm too young to understand, then we-” 

 

“No.” 

 

Jack huffed and glared down at his paper. “This is stupid; can't I just study things we're  _ actually  _ going to run into?” 

 

“Hey now, we've met a cupid before,” Dean said defensively. “There was a whole case around it. Well, he wasn't the guy who had to be ganked, but we did meet him. Wanna know how he said hello?” 

 

“How?” 

 

“Hugs.” 

 

Cas rolled his eyes. “The point  _ is,  _ we're going to go over them and move on. If you insist on learning about things you'll “actually” face, we will move onto Wraiths next.” 

 

Jack beamed. “Sounds exciting.” 

 

“Trust me, they're not,” Dean muttered. 

 

“One page summary.” Cas tapped the table and eyed Jack seriously. “Front and back, and don't write bigger than normal either. Dean, may I speak with you alone for a moment?” 

 

Dean suddenly felt as if he was in trouble, so he shot Jack a wary look as he stood up. Jack just smiled in amusement and started writing, the words most definitely larger than normal. Cas swept past him, trenchcoat flapping as he took a sharp right out the doorway. Sighing, Dean followed. 

 

Honestly, Dean actually kind of missed his clothes being on Cas. The trenchcoat definitely had a more intimidating and dramatic factor, but there was something satisfying about seeing Cas in a pair of his jeans and black Henley. 

 

Cas waited by Dean's door, eyes narrowed, and Dean definitely knew he was in trouble. He wasn't entirely sure  _ what  _ he'd done, so he entered his room slowly. He wanted to put this off as long as he could, and he glanced around to see if he had anything he could distract Cas with. 

 

“Hey, did I ever show you my-” 

 

“Windows,” Cas announced, shutting the door with a click. “Not only do they open and close, they  _ break.  _ You broke our window.” 

 

Dean blinked. “What? No, I didn't. We just… missed it. I already told you that, man.” 

 

“Now that we're openly talking about our past windows, we have no access to them. You  _ broke  _ it.” 

 

“I didn't  _ break  _ anything. And gotta be honest here, Cas, I'm not sure what you're getting at.” 

 

“I've been thinking.” Cas reached up and tapped his lips, mouth turned down in a frown. “I was not aware of our windows before, and I'm not sure if any that arise should be acted on. This was not an issue until your brought it up.” 

 

Dean crossed his arms, a little offended. “You telling me I shouldn't have said anything?” 

 

“No, I'm telling you that I am confused.” 

 

“Okay, so it's like this. Early on, we would have fell hard and fast. We clicked just right, had loads of chemistry, that whole shebang. Over time, we became best friends, and that's okay too. But so long after  _ not  _ doing anything about whatever in the hell we had going on… well, it just kinda flaked out. At this point, anything we do wouldn't really work. We're friends, really good friends, and that's where we're gonna stay at. Not because we aren't interested in trying for something else, but because we lost the spark. We're just… us.” 

 

“Is it because you're getting older?” 

 

“Hey, I'm not getting old, fuck you.” 

 

Cas’ lips twitched in amusement. “Okay, so it's the lack of spark. We… lost it?” 

 

“Pretty much.” Dean shrugged, a little smile on his face, but it felt too sad to keep, so he dropped it. “Look, don't worry about it. We're fine, we're always gonna be fine. Nothing to be confused about.” 

 

Cas stared at him in consideration, eyes flicking over his form as if searching for anything suspicious. He let out a slow breath. “You're sure?” 

 

“I'm sure, Cas. Think about it like this; we're just too close to be in a relationship. Kissing would be awkward, and sex would-” 

 

“How do you know?” 

 

“What?” Dean asked. 

 

“How do you know kissing would be awkward? We haven't ever done it,” Cas retorted accusingly, narrowing his eyes in doubt. 

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Alright, get over here. Come on. And to be clear, this is  _ not  _ a window.” 

 

“Are we going to kiss?” Cas muttered warily, taking a hesitant step forward. 

 

“Mhm,” Dean confirmed, unraveling his arms and reaching out to yank Cas closer. “And you're gonna see that it's gonna be, ya know,  _ hilarious.”  _

 

“If you insist,” Cas said, sighing heavily and blinking at Dean patiently. 

 

Dean quirked an amused smile. “What's one kiss between friends?” 

 

“Awkward, probably,” Cas answered. 

 

“Exactly,” Dean murmured. 

 

Dean couldn't help but look at Cas’ lips, couldn't stop his eyes from flicking down. They were  _ right there,  _ and Dean could easily tilt his chin and capture the lips with his own, could transfer a moan from his mouth to Cas’ if he wanted to. 

 

They had been in this position many times, through anger or desperation, pinning each other's bodies after particularly stupid decisions, like they can prove a point by boxing their opinions between them. But that had been closeness born from emotion, not a clear decision. He wanted to slot their bodies together, cradle pleasure and desire between them, see if he would feel how he did when they were close from too many emotions.

 

“Dean,” Cas whispered softly. 

 

Dean hadn't had one coherent thought since since he decided he was going to kiss his best friend, and he didn't think he was going to have another anytime soon. He tilted his chin, breathed a shaky exhale, brushed his lips over Cas’. 

 

They froze, going still as the line was very blatantly crossed. Dean couldn't breathe, couldn't think clearly, his mind focused on one thing. Cas swallowed and met Dean's eyes, holding his gaze, asking a question. Dean didn't plan to answer it. He thought it would be a very good idea to stop and laugh if off. Maybe get some space, bring some sense back to his brain. 

 

Instead, he brought his hands up to push his fingers into Cas’ hair, tugging him close to slot their mouths together. 

 

The reaction was immediate. 

 

Cas raised his hands to draw them closer, making a sound in the back of his throat as his eyes slipped closed. Dean followed his lead, let his eyelids fall, focused on how Cas’ lips moved over his. A moan broke free, but Dean had no idea who it belonged to originally. 

 

They broke apart minutely, and without opening his eyes, Dean breathed,  _ “Cas.”  _

 

And that was it. 

 

Cas’ fingers slid into his hair, fisting there and yanking his head to the side. Dean swallowed a whimper, shuddering when their tongues brushed together, and good  _ god,  _ it was so fucking good that Dean couldn't wrap his mind around it. 

 

Right there, in the middle of his room, they made out almost filthily, swapping groans like gifts. And when Dean curled his hips up, arching into him, Cas just walked them back to the door. Sparks danced behind Dean's eyes as Cas swung him around and shoved him against the door. He started rocking with intent, dragging his lips away from Dean's mouth to tongue at his neck, panting against the racing pulse-point there. 

 

Cas continued like that for a few moments, before he pulled back to blink at Dean. They were pressed against each other forcefully, wearing dazed expressions, and Dean had no idea what the fuck he was supposed to say. Then, Cas pushed him back against the door, being gentle as he rolled his hips into Dean's, turning his mouth to Dean's lips, sucking and biting like he was meant for it. 

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dean cursed, the words breaking around a gasp as he broke free for a moment. 

 

He tilted his head back, let Cas rolls their hips together, and held on for dear life. It was awkward, and rough, and sounded absolutely  _ filthy,  _ but Dean was three seconds from coming in his too tight jeans any-fucking-way, because  _ fuck,  _ it was genuinely just that good. 

 

Dean didn't remember ever being this desperate, this goddamn  _ needy,  _ ever before. Maybe Cas just had that effect on him. Because he couldn't breathe, he felt like he was going to burst out of his skin, and he was so fucking wound up that he worried he'd never find any relief from this insanity. 

 

But, for a moment, everything went quiet and still, and Dean's jaw snapped together as all his muscles locked up. With one rough roll of Cas’ hips and teeth scraping over his earlobe, Dean found release so amazing that he had to close his eyes around the pleasure he felt. 

 

Cas’ breath broke around a moan, his hips jerking forward two more times, and then he followed Dean in finding his own release. 

 

“That,” Cas declared roughly, “was  _ not  _ hilarious.” 

 

Dean swallowed, letting his head thunk against the door behind him. “Or awkward,” he croaked, fighting valiantly not to slide to the floor in a heap. 

 

“Dean, I think we have a spark.” 

 

“I think you're right about that.” 

 

The laughter was abrupt, but Dean couldn't stop it if he wanted to. He leaned against the door and fucking  _ crowed _ with laughter, unable to contain it. 

 

There was something so relieving about being wrong. He and Cas  _ hadn't  _ missed their window. True to form, they'd ripped it off the hinges without so much as a warning. Dean wasn't gonna have to be bitter about what could have been, not while it  _ was.  _

 

“You need a shower,” Cas told him seriously. 

 

Dean sighed, smile tugging incessantly at his lips, refusing to go away. “Yeah, I do. That was… intense. You really are gonna make me cry with your tongue, aren't you?” 

 

Cas just stared at him. “Yes.” 

 

“So, we're… ya know… doing the thing.” 

 

“What thing?” 

 

“The  _ us  _ thing.” 

 

“I thought we were already doing that.” 

 

“Well, yeah.” Dean tapped Cas’ chest, licking his lips and averting his eyes. “But I mean…  _ more.  _ That's all a window is, Cas. An opportunity for more.” 

 

“We will have to reevaluate the sex schedule.” 

 

“Oh?” 

 

Cas looked a bit sheepish. “I don't think we will only be having sex twice a week, Dean.” 

 

“Thank fuck for that.” Dean grinned, lightly pushing Cas away from him. “Alright, I'm gonna go get a shower, and  _ you  _ get to confuse Sam with the news.” 

 

“And what about Jack?” 

 

“I dunno, tell Sam to handle it.” 

 

“That feels underhanded.” 

 

“Yeah, well, he started it with that fucking  _ horrible  _ date.” 

 

Cas pursed his lips. “I think it was nice.” 

 

“Just you wait, man. I'm gonna take you on a date  _ way  _ better than that. You'll love it.” 

 

“Okay.”

 

Dean hummed as he opened the door, glancing at Cas over his shoulder. “You could always tell the kid that you, uh, are loved romantically. Not exactly a lie, and it'd probably reassure him.” 

 

Cas stared at him for a long beat, his face soft, lips curling up just so. Dean was still himself, so he wasn't gonna be able to say it, not yet, but the message was clear. 

 

“I'll be sure to let him know,” Cas murmured, eyes bright and intense. 

 

Dean cleared his throat. “I'm not gonna kiss you, because I need to get cleaned up - not all of us have angel powers to just snap ourselves clean - but the, uh, spark is  _ definitely  _ there.” 

 

“I know,” Cas replied easily. 

 

“Okay.” Dean gave a nod, coughing slightly. “Good. I'm gonna get a shower now.” 

 

“Dean?” Cas called before he could take another step. 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“I'm going to inform Jack that I can love romantically as well. Just so you know.” 

 

Dean turned right back around and shut the door, immediately tugging his shirt off after the lock flipped. Cas blinked in surprise as Dean started yanking on his belt, tugging them out the loops of his jeans. Dean sighed heavily as he kicked his boots off, nearly tumbling over as he tried to work his pants down. 

 

“Dean, what are you-” 

 

“Fucking  _ windows.  _ I told you about the windows.” 

 

“Yes, but-” 

 

Dean finally got his jeans off and started towards Cas, shaking his head as he reached out and snagged his tie, tugging him towards the bed. 

 

“You opened the window, and now we gotta spark, so we have to climb through. Sorry, I don't make the rules,” Dean apologized, shrugging shamelessly as he led Cas to the bed. 

 

Cas laughed quietly as he followed. “Alright, Dean, let's climb through.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Don't hesitate to drop some kudos and leave me a comment; I do so enjoy them. 
> 
> Ta!


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